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Post by Kill on Jul 1, 2005 0:38:43 GMT -5
"VICKY!!!"
"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" I called back from inside the dark room.
"PHONE!" my brother called sounding impatient as ever.
"COMING!" I yelled and hurriedly hung up the black and white photo of Lindsay Lohan that I had to send into Seventeen magazine by tomorrow. I was proudly the youngest photographer in the business. Dashing down the stairs I picked up a few rolls of film that hopefully had the other shots that I had taken on them. I grabbed the phone from my brother's hand and then tried to shove the film rolls into my pocket. "Hello?" I asked.
"Hey, Vick," It was my boyfriend Trevor.
"Hey, Trev. What's up?" I said still struggling with my tight fitting pants and the rolls of film.
"Uh. Vick, I'm sorry. I killed your cat," silence.
"What?" the film rolls dropped to the hard wood floor and my tone became more tense than ever.
"I hit MJ when I was backing out of my drive way," he practically whined so that he wouldn't be in trouble. "She died instantly, if that helps."
"MJ's dead?"
"Yeah," Trevor's voice came quietly. "I'm really, really, really sorry."
"Trevor, where were you going?" I asked just to get the simplistic details and forget that my cat that I had since I was fourteen had just been killed.
"Courtney's," he gasped, "Because she wanted me to...Uh...Watch her dog, Max."
"Courtney's allergic to animals. Of any kind," I said and my stomach lurched.
"Well, you know how some dogs are different," Trevor was so desperately trying to cover himself up.
"No, I don't Trevor. Please fill me in," I crossed my arms over my chest.
"Um...Listen, Vicky. I'm really sorry about MJ. I'm sorry about cheating on you too," he hung up.
"Butthole," I whispered and then hung up. I didn't even cry. If he was going to treat me like dirt then why cry over him? I didn't cry over MJ either. Mary Jane wouldn't want me to cry over her. I grabbed the rolls of film that I had dropped to the floor and tossed them in the garbage. I hadn't noticed but the labels read, 'Trevor and Friends.'
I was sick of the world. Sick of my job. Sick of everything around me. My boyfriends had always cheated on me. Ever since seventh grade. I could never find one honest guy. The only cat I ever had now was dead too. I wished I was with her, instead of living in humiliation.
I tramped up the stair and continued my Lohan developing. I picked my two favorites and then put them in an envelope addressed for Seventeen. I made my way down the stairs again.
"Adam, I'm gonna go mail these," I said to my brother and leapt outside.
The night air was refreshing and cool, yet something was different. I looked across the street to see Mr. Harrington had bought a new hot rod with cherry bomb pipes. Fuses were polluting the air. I made my way to the end of the street and then dropped my manilla package with a big red 'DO NOT BEND' stamp on it, into the mailbox. I turned around and watched my feet.
I wasn't sad at all. I wasn't mad either. I was just stuck in my world again. I was nowhere. I sat down on the nearest stoop and put my head in my hands.
I will not cry. I will not be sad. I will not feel bad for Trevor or MJ. I listened well to myself. I grabbed a rock from the street as I began walking again and flung it at the side of an apartment building. Stress relief.
Finally, I realized how lost I had gotten myself. I looked around and noticed I had somehow gone past my own house and was now in the big and rich part of town. I turned on my heal when I heard whispering. I was only seventeen, anything could happen to me. Rape, murder, cars backing into me. I'm paranoid. I make my way quickly towards my house, but I hear foot steps behind me.
I turn around and see nothing. A bush next to the side walk laughs. Bushes don't usually laugh so I peek around it to see a kid with blond hair and a goofy grin. "Hi," he said and then stood up. A joint was stuck between his thumb and pointer finger.
"Hi," I said a bit nervous and turned away.
"Well, bye," he said to my back.
"Bye," I said growing anxious to be back in my nice, cozy darkroom.
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Post by Kill on Jul 1, 2005 0:55:28 GMT -5
I reached my house and looked around before going in just in case that boy had followed me. I didn't want him knowing where I lived. With the coast clear I stepped inside.
"Adam?" I called but there was no answer. He was either in bed or went out to do something. I figured that he went out with one of his many friends. I have no friends now. Everyone deserted me after I became a photographer and developed into my true self. Everyone hates the real me, but too bad because that's who I am.
I went to my darkroom, upstairs again and shut myself inside. For once though, it wasn't welcoming or cozy. Lindsay Lohan kept staring at me with her bleach blond hair flowing dramatically around her. I jumped from my seat and dashed outside to sit on the stoop.
The cold cement felt better than the musty smell of the darkroom. Suddenly, a gang of three boys all holding joint between their fingers came walking up the sidewalk, towards my house. I recognized the one as the boy who had hid in the bush after following me.
I crushed myself against the side of my stoop, trying to stay out of their sight. They approached quickly. I could hear their sneakers on the sidewalk and every time one of them would take a drag. They stopped.
"Hi," a familiar voice said. Was he talking to me. I didn't want to take my eyes away from my shoes and see that all three boys were looking at me in my scrunched up ball. Yet, I did and it was the same boy, with two of his friends.
"Hey," one of the other boys said too. He had dark black hair and a sneer spread across his face.
"Hi," I stuttered and watched the third member watch the smoke he exhaled and then run his finger through it, manipulating it to look like a wheel.
"You like cement?" the black haired kid asked and took a long hard drag on his joint.
I didn't answer, just pushed myself up, embarrassed.
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 1, 2005 10:37:56 GMT -5
YAY! A NEW STORY! I like it so far.
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Post by Kill on Jul 1, 2005 14:49:52 GMT -5
All three boys laughed at me, especially the one with black hair. The third one sat down in front of my stoop and began drawing faces on the sidewalk with a rock.
"What do you want?" I asked trying to seem tough.
"Eh, we're bored. Sorry about Mike here following you too. I dared him to," the black haired kid seemed to be the leader of the gang. The front man. The big cheese.
I didn't say anything. If I said that it was okay then they would think they could do that whenever they wanted to. If I said something mean then they would beat me up or something. I looked at the blond named Mike.
"What's your name?" the third member of the gang, with brownish hair asked. I was taken by surprise. I didn't think that he had even noticed me.
"Mary Jane," I said. I would never in a million years give these guys my real name and my cat's name was the first that popped in my mind.
"MJ," Mike snorted.
"Yeah?" I said, apalled that he thought the name was that terrible.
He just laughed and I figured it was the weed getting to him. I took no offense.
The black haired boy took another long drag, "I'm Billie Joe." He dropped his joint to the ground and smashed it under his heel. Then so I wouldn't get in trouble for having illegal drugs outside my house, he shoved into his tube sock. It was weird, but very clever storage place.
The brown haired kid stood up to examine his drawings and then turned to Billie Joe, "Let's go man! I'm so bored!"
"Yeah, yeah," Billie Joe said and then smirked, "See ya, Mary J."
The group walked down the side walk, entering the moonlight. I watched them until they were gone and I thought that I caught a glispe of feathers on Billie Joe's back. It was only the stress I figured and entered the house again, the scent of weed on my shirt.
I went to my room and stripped off my clothes and threw them in the washing machine immediately. The last thing I needed was Adam thinking that I was a drug addict. After putting on pajamas though I decided that a little beer wouldn't hurt. Adam never kept track of how many bottles were in his stash, so I just took one and chugged it right there in the kitchen. That would put me to sleep.
I staggered up to my bedroom again, not aware of how drunk one bottle of beer got me. The bed was warm and had cat toys scattered all over it. I swiped them off and kicked them under the bed before falling asleep right ontop of the covers.
The next day I woke up groggy but just hyper enough to run down stairs after getting dressed and notice a letter had flown in through the slot. It was Sunday though and there wasn't supposed to be mail. I arched an eyebrow at the envelope and then bent down the open it. Inside was a little peice of paper. It read:
People can be asses, You know that's true, But people aren't only asses, Only to you.
I stuffed the paper in the garbage can and thought about who would have sent that to me. It was probably Trevor trying to say that Courtney had dumped him and now he was angry because I dumped him too. He's such a baby. I crumpled the paper and through it away, and then noticed something else in the envelope. It was a small downy feather. Trevor's an idiot, I thought and then threw everything away completely.
I walked outside and grabbed my skateboard from the beside the cement stoop, noticing a tiny peice of paper, rolled up with stuff hanging out of it. My god, those boys were in for it if they ever do that to me again. I tossed the paper into my sock like Billie had and then skidded down the road to the Loco Cafe to get a muffin or something.
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Post by Kill on Jul 2, 2005 0:43:07 GMT -5
The cafe was mostly empty except for a few people with sketch pads and folders. Artsy people always were hanging around here. I got a blue berry muffin and then sunk into a denim couch by a cracking fireplace. The whole place was silent except for the munching of muffins and the cracking of wood.
I set my skateboard underneath my feet and rolled back and forth on it, loosening my ankles up. Finally I was done with my muffin and went up to the counter to pay my bill. The boy behind the counter was new. He fumbled with the register for a while, but then finally handed my receipt to me and another paper.
I stuffed the receipt for ninety-nine cents into my pocket and unfolded the other paper. If Trevor was tracking my down with notes, I was going to kill him. The note read:
St. Jimmy's comin' down across the alleyway, Up on the boulevard like a zip gun on parade, Light of a silhouette, He's insubordinate, Coming at you on the count of 1,2,1,2,3,4!
At that moment the bell above the door into Loco Cafe rang. In strolled Billie Joe and his gang. I groaned and then tried to get out as quickly as I could. Too late though, for the brown haired kid had nudged Billie Joe in the side and said, "Is that her?"
"Hey, Mary Jane!" Billie said and then eyed up my skateboard, "Nice transportation."
"Yeah," I looked down at my old torn up board that I had had since sixth grade.
"I think you need a new one," the brown haired kid said, poking the board. I pulled it away from him and hugged it tight to my body.
"Hands off," I snarled, trying not to sound too mean, just intimadating, "It's the last thing that my parent's gave me before...they died."
My parent's had died when I was ready to go into seventh grade. They were driving to the school to pick me up and they were hit by a train while crossing the tracks. After that I began living with Adam since he was the big brother and all. Thing is that we don't get along too well though. He's twenty five and I am seventeen, what do you expect? He doesn't want to babysit his little sister. I would live with one of my friends, but apparently, I don't have any.
"Shut up, Tre!" Billie snapped at the brown haired boy and then looked at my sympathetically, "I know what it's like. To loose my father at least."
"Then you don't know," I said under my breath and pushed by the gang to go out of the cafe. I hopped onto my skateboard as soon as I was on the street I went down an alleyway and onto Blue Boulevard. There I stopped and sat down on my board. I put my head into my hands, but didn't cry. I couldn't remember the last time I had. When my parent's had died I had just kicked a couch, punched a telephone pole, hit a mirror, and smashed a vase. I had issues about anger.
I don't remember how long I sat there, but suddenly I sensed someone behind me. I spun around and saw Billie Joe behind me.
"What do you want?!" I asked for the second time and stood up. "Billie Joe Whateveryournameis, please just go away. I don't know why you like stalking me so much, but frankly I'm sick of it. I'm tired of you and Mike and Tre and Trevor and Adam and Vicky and..." I was tired of myself?
"Mary Jane," he knelt down beside me, "I know. And when Tre and Mike aren't here could you please call me Jimmy? St. Jimmy."
"What?" I looked at him. He expected me to call him a SAINT? No way was that going to happen. "Billie Joe, I don't believe that you're a Saint."
He sighed and then looked around. Standing up he spread out his arms to the side and instantly huge wings sprouted from his shoulder blades, a needle stuck in one. They were gray, but majestic. I was in awe and couldn't find the words to say.
"I-I believe you," I stuttered as Billie Joe folded his arms back down and both wings disappeared.
"Good. Now that that is out of the way, let me tell you something. ONLY call me that when we are alone," he locked his jaw and stared at me seriously.
"Got it," I nodded still fascinated. What in the name of god was happening to me. I was delusional, or illusional, whatever it was. I blinked and rubbed at my eyes.
Billie Joe sighed and knelt again, "How's life?"
"Why would you want to know?" I barked and ran my fingers threw my hair, stressed out once again.
"I just asked," he muttered and sighed.
I gave in, "Life sucks. My brother hates me, I have no other family besides him that's alive, my best friend was killed by my ex-boyfriend that I caught cheating on me, I have no friends, and I hate my job."
Billie Joe, I mean, St. Jimmy whistled. He shook his head, "You've got nothing to loose, yet nothing to win, huh?"
I nodded. I knew I would get nowhere in life when I was fifteen. I also knew that I was alone when my friends began to vear away from me, my parents died, and I was forced to live with my social butterfly brother. "Yeah. Nothing but life...Which sucks. Did I mention that?"
St. Jimmy nodded and then asked, "So who's Vicky?"
"Oh, her," What was I going to say. I wasn't totally trusting this kid, but he was the only one that would talk to me, "She died. Long gone...All that's left of her is a little part of my heart." That sounded so stupid, but it was so true.
The plan was made as soon as I got back home. I was running away and going to live with Billie Joe, St. Jimmy, whoever he was, because he understood me. Adam wouldn't care, besides if Vicky was dead, what would he want to deal with Mary Jane for? Nobody would miss me, and I could get my hair dyed or whatever. I didn't know the complete plan, but I knew I would do whatever it took to have somewhat of a life back.
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 2, 2005 8:58:47 GMT -5
That's really good...and completely bizarre at the same time.
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Post by Kill on Jul 2, 2005 20:09:42 GMT -5
Thanks, haha. I love bizarre-ness
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Post by Kill on Jul 2, 2005 21:05:10 GMT -5
Carrying a duffel bag full of my stuff and a pillow, I hopped onto my skateboard and skidded down to the record store that Billie Joe supposedly lived next to with Mike and Tre. I had left a note at home, but it wasn't special.
Adam, I don't think that you want to keep babysitting me until I am old enough to get my own house, so I am moving in with some friends. See you around, I guess. -Vicky
After writing that I nearly signed Mary Jane instead.
The record store wasn't far away, and I was there in moments. Tre was sitting outside tossing those little cracking fireworks into the street and watching car owners check to see if they had gotten a flat.
"Hey," he said and tossed one at me. I caught it lightly and then threw it back at him. It cracked and he laughed.
"Ouch!" he rubbed his arm where he now had a little burn mark. I shrugged and then smirked, seeing that I couldn't grobble and junk over people in this gang. Tre was fine.
"Billie in here?" I asked and began to open the door.
"Nah. Not right now. Him and Mike went to the store to get food or something," Tre answered snickering because some old guy had pulled over to check his tires out, "You can go inside and lounge or whatever."
"Okay," I coughed and then welcomed myself into the humble home. It would be alright I guessed. I set my things on the couch and then leaned my skateboard against the wall near the door. I took off my shoes too, just in case they had a fetish like other people. Suddenly, I saw a note on the floor next to my shoes. God dammit, Trevor. How in hell did he know I was here?
I opened it and read it aloud for the first time:
"Time to kick back and think a lot, You're a pawn in the master plot, You know that your strangled, And held to so tight, But why do you give in, You can be such a pathetic sight."
I crushed it in my palm and flopped onto the couch. A spring cracked and I sunk into the cushions more. What did all these notes mean? I knew that I wasn't getting them from Trevor now. They all seemed to show up after I meet with Billie's gang. They weren't from Trevor! They were from Sait Jimmy! For the first time I flipped over the note and read the anitials, SJ.
I burst through the door scaring Tre half to death, and said, "What store is Billie Joe at?"
"The only one on this street," he pulled himself together and threw a popping thing at me. I dashed off.
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 2, 2005 21:42:00 GMT -5
I can imagine Tre throwing popping things at people.
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Post by Kill on Jul 3, 2005 19:31:48 GMT -5
The grocery store that Tre had told me about was called Muck's Place. It was very ratty looking and still had Christmas decorations hanging in the windows. I opened the door and walked in quietly. The man at the register with red, red hair and a beer belly eyed me up. I forced a smile at him and continued to pretend I was looking for something that I just couldn't find.
As I made my way down the second aisle a cockroach darted in front of me. I covered my mouth to hold back a scream and looked to see if anyone was watching me. I grabbed a packet of Twinkies to look as if I was at least shopping a little and passed the beefy red head again to get into aisle three. At the end of this aisle was a refrigerator with a note attached to it. I ran up, knowing it had to be another one from Sait Jimmy. I read it, "Live bait...Oh." Embarrassed I cut between the fridge and the next aisle and just peered down each one as I passed it. Finally I was at the sixth and last one, but I hadn't seem Mike or Billie Joe. I spun around and then saw the door. It was back and the paint was chipping away. The handle was silver and began to jangle. I thought of Billie Joe suddenly sprouting wings and wondered what lay behind the mysterious black door.
Slowly, I put my hand up to the silver knob then grasped it. I flung it open in an instant and shut my eyes.
"HELLO!" Mike's voice bellowed and then realized it was only me, Mary Jane, "Oh hi."
"Hi," I said and then looked around the closet, "Where's Billie Joe?"
"I'm here," a voice from above me called. I looked up into the shelving in the closet and spotted Billie beaming at me, "What's up, MJ?"
"Uh, could I talk to you in private?" I asked. It was an awkward question to ask anyone, especially when you barely knew them. Billie Joe nodded and then hopped from his perch, landing right in front of me.
I led him out of the dark closet and then into aisle five, just to get some distance from Mike. I turned to Billie Joe and then said, "Why the hell do you keep sending me these things, Saint Jimmy?"
"I'm a Saint," he answered, "I help people like that."
"I know what Saints do!" I practically shouted, "But why me? What's so effed up with my life that I need help from an unknown Saint for?"
"You told me near the alley before and now you're asking me why you need help?" he raised an eyebrow at me and then shoved his fist out. He opened it slowly to reveal a little sheet of paper.
"Not another," I groaned and snatched it from his hand to read it.
You're sick of life Cause nothing's right You want to leave It all behind You want to make it On your own But you can't Because you just Can't stand Being alone.
"I'm not alone," I said to him after processing the meaning, "I'm not alone. I have you guys and Adam."
"Adam?"
"Okay, so maybe not Adam, but I have you three."
"Hey. I'm just doing you a favor, that doesn't mean that I am your friend. The blond barely knows you and I don't think that simpleton even likes you that much."
"Thanks," I whispered and clutched the note in my hand, "So what are you implying? That I go kill myself or something?"
"I'm not implying anything," Saint Jimmy said, "I am just trying to help."
Suddenly Mike came up from behind SaintJimmy. "Hey, Billie Joe! We might want to get home before Tre kills himself with a pressure cooker or something!"
"Pressure cooker?" Billie Joe laughed, "Mike, you kill me."
What in the name of god was going on? Seconds ago a jackass was telling me what to do with my life, and now before me stood a plain old guy with a goofy smile and one of his friends. It was as if Saint Jimmy and Billie Joe were completely different people, only Saint Jimmy used Billie Joe as a pawn. A person to get his message across.
I remembered when I was little and heard voices in my head. It was really scarey. I then wondered if Saint Jimmy was just a more powerful voice in Billie Joe's head, telling him what to do and what to say. Billie Joe was the pawn of Saint Jimmy, his messanger. I had it all figured out, I thought.
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 3, 2005 19:35:45 GMT -5
GASP!!! This story is awesome.
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Post by Kill on Jul 5, 2005 20:14:08 GMT -5
I stood there for sometime listening to Mike and Billie Joe argue about pointless things and laughing. The store was becoming chilly and I had spotted another roach. I wanted out of there, but after what Saint Jimmy had said about Tre not even liking me, I decided not to bother him with my prescence. Instead I moped around the store waiting for my accquaintances to leave with me. No scence calling them friends now.
As I was browsing I spotted hair dye. If I was going to change my name I figured I would change my hair color as well. I grabbed a box of lime green and neon pink. I spun to look at the other products on the other side of the aisle. Dreadlock wax was screaming my name. I grabbed the little tub of goop, by dying kits, and a pair of laytex gloves, just in case they didn't come in the box.
"You ready to go, kid?" Billie Joe suddenly asked me.
"Uh, yeah," I answered, "Just let me pay for-"
Billie Joe thrust up a hand and then grabbed all of my hair products. He shoved them inside his shirt and pushed them to the side so that they were next to Mike, the makeshift sheild. I shrugged, figuring that Billie Joe would be the only one in trouble if we got caught shoplifting. Billie put his arm around my neck and pulled me close, then did the same to Mike. We began walking slowly towards the door and passed the red headed man.
We made it! There were no sirens or flashing lights, just free dreadlock wax and hair dye. "Thanks, Billie Joe!" I said and gave him a small smile.
"No problem," he winked, "You'll look awesome with dreads."
Mike simply nodded and we walked back to their place, Billie still holding his arms around Mike and I.
We got back to the house, and I noticed that Tre had moved inside. I couldn't blame him, it was getting pretty cold outside. As we entered, we immediately smelled something similar to a dog fart. "TRE WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" Mike yelped and dashed off into the kitchen. Billie Joe and I followed, but Billie had stopped smiling like he had when Mike was by him. Once again he was wearing his suicidal Saint Jimmy death glare, but I ignored it.
The kitchen was so stinky I pulled my shirt around my nose as I entered. Mike was pouring something down the sink and Tre was sitting ontop of the small round, yellow, table. "What did you DO?" Billie coughed, smiling again. Can anyone say, bipolar?
"I was trying to make us dinner, but," Tre cracked a smile, "All I could find that was still edible was a pack of sardines and Doritos."
"YUM!" I rolled my eyes just to receive a mad face from Tre. I guess I wasn't on his "good-side."
"Tre," Billie groaned ashe helped Mike clean up, "You just can't mix things together. That's why you buy things premade and packaged!" He tossed Tre a packet of cherry Poptarts and set three more pack on the table next to him.
Trying to help some, I opened two of the kitchen windows and turned on a fan that was sitting inside of one so that it would suck out the stink. Mike was washing out a big pot, and Billie Joe was still lecturing Tre as they both munched at their dinners. Assuming one was mine, I went to the table and grabbed a crinkly silver packet of blueberry flavored Poptarts. Hesitantly, I opened it and then took a bite of both at the same time. That's the way that I have always eaten Poptarts and if I changed my ways about food, I probably wouldn't last two more days.
Tre finally spoke up, "Sorry guys."
"It's okay," Mike and Billie mumbled.
"We know that you were trying to help," Mike said sitting down on the table between Tre and I. Billie was seated in the only chair in the kitchen, right below me.
"Yeah, at least you didn't burn down the house," Billie Joe laughed and everyone but me joined in laughing. It wasn't that funny. My aunt's house had burnt down killing her dog, her husband, and her three month old baby. She had escaped with tons of burns and then died of skin cancer weeks later. It was amazing how quickly things like that can infect your body and cause it to shut down.
I finished my dinner first, probably because I ate both in the time that it takes to eat one, and then grabbed my hair products from the kitchen counter where Billie Joe had set them. "Bathroom?" I questioned all of them.
"Down the hall-"
"That way-"
"First door on the-"
They all answered at first, but I got the just and walked down the hallway to my left and entered the first door on the left. There was a huge stationary tub, a toilet, and a cement shower. The tub was perfect though. I followed all the directions on the dying kit, and finally, the ends of my hair were dyed lime green and a big chunk of hair on both sides on my long bangs were bright pink. I looked awesome, I thought and then I applied the dread wax. I rolled my hair, just in sections, so that I would have random dreads, not a full head. Finally, my hair had dried. I looked back in the mirror and saw, not Victoria the photographer, but Mary Jane the nobody. I liked her better, I mused and then began looking through the medicine cabinet for no reason.
It's a fettish I have, to look around other people's medicine cabinets. This one was a treasure chest though! There was a self peircing kit, a spare nose ring, a tongue ring, and a necklace. The necklace caught my attention first. On it were silver wings, one have a diamond feather in it and the other an ebony one. The dark and light sides of Saint Jimmy; Billie Joe being the brighter side, I guessed. I put the necklace on and tucked the charm into my shirt.
Next I pulled out the self piercing kit and quickly did my left nostril. I placed the nose ring in and examined my now, punked out face. I decided to stop there because if blood started to squirt from my tongue there was no telling if I would faint or died of blood loss.
I smiled weakily at my reflection and then made my way back to the kitchen, but all the guys were sitting in the living room watching TV. "So?" I said and spun around.
"Wow," Mike said and made a side glance at Tre, who just waggled his tongue at me. I laughed and then looked at Billie Joe. He was silent, but still staring at me. "Man, tell the girl how she looks, Billie!" Mike said shoving his friend in the shoulder.
Billie Joe shook his head, "She looks nice." He began staring at the TV again and Mike shrugged at me. I shrugged back. It wasn't as if I had expected anything great from Billie.
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 5, 2005 20:22:09 GMT -5
Billie is a bipolar bear. Yeah, I made that up. I'm so awesome.
Not really.
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Post by Kill on Jul 7, 2005 22:48:41 GMT -5
I had fallen asleep on the couch, Tre below me on the floor. Billie Joe had gone off to sleep on the blow up mattress that was kept in the back room, and Mike was leaning back in an arm chair. All was peaceful as I slept, until I heard footsteps coming down the hallway.
My eyes shot open, but I didn't move. There, creeping in front of the TV was someone. I bit my lip and glanced at Mike, hoping he would spring out of the chair and show off some secret kong fu moves, but my luck isn't that good. Finally, gathering all the courage I had, I whispered, "Who's there?"
No answer.
"Who's there?" I asked again, but a little bit louder. "I'll scream and then you'll have three guys beating you down, buddy," I tried intimadating the person then realized that wouldn't be nessacary.
Billie Joe turned on a small lamp and then whispered, "Shut up." I nodded as he turned out the light again, and silently exited the front door.
Where was he going? I stood up, trying not to step on Tre's head, and then pulled on my Converses. Just as silently as Billie had gone, I had too.
The air was extra chilly when I stepped outside, and I wished that I had brought my jean jacket with me. Which way had Billie gone though? Suddenly a piece of paper rolled by my feet, I picked it up, and I opened it. Inside was another note, from Sait Jimmy of course. So the person that left the house wasn't Billie Joe...
"Follow the trail The interests you Follow the trail With only one clue Follow the path That is the darkest way Follow the path That's all I'll say," I read it out loud again and suddenly my skateboard rolled to my foot. It had come from the left, towards Muck's. Was I supposed to go the way it came from, or the way it was going?
I leapt on and just went. I just wanted to feel the air whisp by me, and the city air fill my lungs. Muck's was coming into a clearer view and I noticed the the door had been smashed open on the bottom half. This had to be it. I jumped off of my skateboard, and crawled through the bottom of the door, avoiding the shards of glass.
"Saint Jimmy?" I whispered inspecting each aisle way, until I heard a crunch beneath my foot, and scampered to the black door him and Mike had been smoking behind. Not knowing what to do, I knocked. Surprisingly, the door flew open and there stood Saint Jimmy wings and all. "Hi," I muttered, "What is it this time?"
"Step in," was all he said and then he lighted a joint and shoved it between my lips. I took a puff, by force and then coughed. Saint Jimmy laughed and then snorted smoke out threw his nostrils. I took another drag and then cautiously exhaled, this time the sensation got to me.
Soon I wasn't in the dark closet anymore, but a black swirling abyss, which transformed into a bridge. I was standing on the edge of it, looking over. Suddenly a force behind me shoved me over and I plunged towards the murky water. I made no attempt to stop myself from drowning. When I came out of my drug enduced dream, Saint Jimmy was guiding me out of Muck's and pulling me through the broken door.
"Where are we going?" I asked, weezing.
"Home. You saw what you were to see, and now we're going home," Saint Jimmy said, pulling me along behind him, not slowing his pace at all. I noticed that he had my skateboard in his hand and when I looked behind us, that the door to Muck's wasn't smashed in. Everything was as it should be.
"Home," I whispered to myself, and let him drag me by the wrist and direct me where to go.
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Post by suicideXmakeover on Jul 7, 2005 23:13:58 GMT -5
*scary music*
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